


An Excellent Brost

by fabflyingfox



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-12-04 05:00:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabflyingfox/pseuds/fabflyingfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short drabble of Doc Scratch musing over his favorite host.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Excellent Brost

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PresquePommes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PresquePommes/gifts).



> Thanks to PresquePommes for the inspiration. This is a ship would probably have never thought of.

You couldn’t deny he is an excellent host.

Not necessarily as excellent as you would deem yourself, and certainly, if it were any other living being’s home you would have a field day over the disarray of the living space. Your own personal living space was the pinnacle of homely and inviting, from the leather-back chairs around a warm fireplace to the endless bookshelves holding all the secrets of the universe and then some. You gleam with pride over the thought of your own living space, but deep down you can’t help but adore the blessed times you leave your quarters for a place more delightfully… unkempt.

He greets you with a stoic expression each time you arrive, you with flowers in hand, the perfect guest. You may convince yourself to be all knowing, but it is difficult to penetrate what he is thinking each time he leans against the side of the door frame, allowing you access into the apartment. You can’t help but be both irrationally frustrated yet intrigued at what could be hiding in his mind’s eye.

The first time you came over, you scoffed internally at the obvious signs of a textbook “Bachelor Pad:” various different technologic appliances on every wall, wires crossing the middle of the floor, various trinkets (are those… puppets?) and articles of clothing (mostly hats) scattered on top of each surface, and an impressive collection of weaponry (swords) in places you’d least expect them. No mistake about it, this was definitely not the work of a gentleman like yourself by any means. And that is exactly what draws you to it now.

The last thing an all-knowing being expects to experience is that of the element of surprise, and it seems each time you find yourself naked in his bed, his supple biceps embracing your body as your ass relaxes from a sporting round of bum-rushing, that you cannot fathom how he knew that was exactly what you needed: the feeling of uncertainty.

You see, not only is he an excellent host, he is an unpredictable lover.

Two weeks ago, you could not fathom what possessed him to answer the door in a french maid’s uniform until he guided your hand under the petticoat to find him without proper undergarments. It was the first time he let you take command, and you would be lying if you had no clue whatsoever as to whether your facade of confidence as you stroked his cock tenderly was as transparent as your head is opaque. You discovered rather hastily that your own desires was not in pleasing yourself as much as it was making that stoic expression flush off his face with each time you squeezed him toward the tip, pumping gently.

That did not mean he did not accommodate you in your escapades together. He never so much as would speak a word, listening carefully for any and all indications you left that a new position was or was not working, adjusting in intensity of thrusts into your glory hole just so that the pleasure you shared was never outperformed by the sting of the cold lube or the initial stretching of the rectum walls. If you needed a break, he would give you one. If you were hungry, he’d bring you a quick meal to the bed, knowing just the right crevice in your neck to lavish on his was out of the sheets.

And yet, there was one constant in every meeting: he would always have a candy dish with treats simply for your own enjoyment after sex. How was it that he knew your love for candy dishes? He had never had the pleasure of stopping by your abode to know that was your common courtesy to others, even if you did enforce strict ruling over how many times a guest’s hand could delve into said candy dish.

Indeed, as you fondly think back on your meetings, you are certain of one thing.

For you, Bro Strider is the perfect host.


End file.
